


Getting Handsy

by minxminx



Category: Doom Patrol, Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: F/M, Orgasm, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 20:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minxminx/pseuds/minxminx
Summary: Movies aren't really Janes thing, but there's always a way to make them fun.Shameless Cliff/Jane smut, and hopefully the characters aren't too out of character.





	Getting Handsy

Jane chewed her nails, obsessively picking at her thumb until the cuticles bled. She didn’t mind it so much, helped her ground herself while she stared down the object of her latest irritation. One foot tapped an unkempt tempo, eyes flicking back and forth from the metal man currently chugging beer for whatever reason; and spewing it when he burst out laughing at some old cheesy eighties’ movie he had bullied the group into watching. It wasn’t like he could taste the beer he kept replenishing with another, but it didn’t hurt him either so she figured if his wires didn’t start frying, she wouldn’t have to knock the can out of his hands. She never understood why he bothered, given he couldn’t taste anything, but figured it must be a force of habit. Hammerhead scoffed, crossing their legs and catching a knee with their crossed hands, scowling intensely. Jackass deserves to fry if he’s that fucking stupid, a smirk on their lips at the thought. Karen squawked in protest but fuck her and emotional sentimentalities. 

Jane shook her head, furiously scratching and carving her nail bitten fingertips into her scalp. It wasn’t fair. Before “Toy man” entered the house, things were simple. Well, as simple as they could be for the girl with 64 different personalities, but it was semi structured chaos. Hammerhead and Silver Tongue taking care of any threats, Flit being there for quick getaways and making her way around, even the Secretary was useful, keeping a level head when everything was chaos. Jane shifted again, irritable in her own skin, and that was saying something given half the time she didn’t even know it. It felt like ants were crawling in her skin, but as crazy as she was, Jane knew better than to start clawing chunks of flesh out of her arms while sitting next to the others. 

At best, Rita would complain about the blood ruining her precious couch covers, at worst she’d have to listen to Cliff ramble on about therapy again. She settled for pulling her knees up to her chest, leaning back on the arm rest of the couch and stretching out after a minute, resting her legs over the Robot man’s legs. She pointedly ignored the glance thrown her way, pulling a small pillow under her neck and keeping her eyes fixed on the old-time movie playing on the small tv. She also ignored the fact a heavy hand paused before setting itself on one knee, pretending not to have any interest in the gesture of comfort. 

 

Said Robotman may be particularly dense, but even he hadn’t forgotten some of the small nuances. Like when there was a dark room with nothing for light but the flickering of a tv during a late-night movie, and a girl slinging her legs over someone’s lap. Not that he could feel it, for the most part. Niles had managed to adjust his settings to the slightest of sensory abilities, so it was more like a phantom touch on his lap and the faintest of water trickling when he chugged a cold beer, but he wouldn’t give that up for anything. Decades of not being able to feel anything while his brain screamed for release was hell enough, he didn’t question the smallest of gifts. He grunted, heavy hand hovering before fuck it, he let it fall on an offered bent knee. True enough, he could only guess how it felt to the angry lump of repressed god knows what hormones and feelings next to him, but if he could smile he would when he saw her scowl deepen and what might be a blush form. She responded by opening the close bottle of whiskey and downing it like a pro, breaking off to breathe and choke when it went down wrong. 

If Larry could raise an eyebrow at Rita, he surely would be at this point. Rita either pointedly or absent mindedly noticed only her knitting, eyes occasionally glancing at the tv screen. He smirked underneath the bandages, wondering if he should do something bold enough to end what would only amount to something loud on the other couch, or if he should encourage it. Rita for her part, took a deep sip of her gin and tonic, brushing back her hair behind her ear with a dismissive sniff. Larry decided after another sly look at the mismatched couple that perhaps bed would be in order, ignoring the thrilling hum in his chest and slight bitter taste on the back of his tongue. Just because someone in the house might enjoy touch didn’t mean he would stand in the way or try and watch as the ecstatic spirit clamored in his rib cage. He still had a long way to go to understand the unwanted visitor, but some things slipped through, and the electric being had a latest need to be a huge pervert. 

“I hate to be a downer, but I feel bed calls me.” Rita glanced up, slightly surprised it wasn’t her calling an early evening, but her protest snapped off midway when she noticed an obvious shrug to the other couch. To be fair, the bandaged man could be forgiven for lack of tact given the lack of facial expressions. She arched a brow and huffed, gathering her knitting needles and glass to take an offered gloved hand. “Indeed. You two be sure to behave and rest soon, meeting is early in the morning after all.” She dismissed both pairs of hands giving her the finger with the most top level of elegance while she strode towards the stairs. Larry followed behind, quietly saying goodnight before climbing the stairs behind the former film star. 

Jane couldn’t tell through her narrowed and suspicious eyes if the two were up to something. What was even worse is she had a small jolt of energy hit her veins when she realized it would just be her and Cliff alone for a while. It didn’t happen for the most part, her to enjoy lurking in her room and painting, him being a bit simpler and more social. Meaning she avoided the others like a skittish house cat and envied how easily he socialized with the others, wandering place to place with the blunt honesty and enjoyment she couldn’t find with the other 63 personas in her head 24/7 screaming to be let out. The tv screen flickered across his face, sharp angles and bright red eyes standing out even in almost complete darkness. He leaned, cracking open another beer, and she took a moment to watch those large and rough fingers clumsily work the top. For some reason, she wondered how rough and able they would feel on her skin. Would they be cold and only warm through her body heat, would she have to tell him detail by detail how to stroke her skin, feel her tits, fuck her pu- and at that point, the others started clamoring. 

To say there was an uproar would be an understatement. Hammerhead and Silver Tongue equally started yelling in their skull Why would you trust a man they only fuck you up and clawing to the surface angrily. Thank fuck Black Annis never came out to play unless in desperate situations. Scarlet Harlot and Karen purred nasty things in Jane’s ears, fingertips seeming to push and tingle on the right pressure points under their shared skin in contrast, causing Jane to bite their lip and roll the hip slightly. As always, the line between the collective and singular dominant personality fought, until with one downward shift of the metal hand decided everything for her. Cliff had been nothing but annoyingly persistent in showing how much he cared for her safety and wellbeing, making her feel hope when she had none. Penny crowed in the background, and Jane wondered for a moment how much she had a hand in this when she normally avoided all conflict to run at all chances. Jane cocked an eyebrow, chugging down whiskey, deciding next to light the joint in her pocket. In a rare moment of alpha dominance, she shoved the voices to the deepest parts of her mind, just for a bit. 

Cliff would have complained more about Jane squirming around, but to be fair, being a man of metal, he didn’t often have the chance of being annoyed at people touching him too much and him feeling it enough to care. Her feet arched, heels pressing into his inner thighs, while her lower body pushed up slightly, arching her back. He noticed her toenails were of course painted black, before realizing her actions made her hoodie slide up far enough, he could see an exposed right hip and her navel. Nothing on the planet could stop him from crushing the beer in his right hand. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” Jane would be more amused at his frantic actions to find a towel if she wasn’t half soaked in beer. “Fuck dude, if I wanted to be wet, I would have said so,” she snarled, yanking said soaked hoody up and over and tossing it across the room. 

If a robot could choke, Cliff definitively did, and she was way too smug to see his glowing red eyes somewhat brighten with interest. Leave it to Jane to say something so fucking vulgar in the moment, as well as wear nothing under the thrown away hoody but a black bra. He coughed, stumbling as he bent down to wipe up the floor. “Kid, I know you have some spit in you, but watch what you say. Some might take it wrong.” She pushed him back, forcing them into a position of his back up against the other couch and her straddling his lap “What makes you think I didn’t mean it that way?”, she murmured, grinding downwards harshly. Cliff wanted nothing more in that moment to be human when she did that, and almost hated himself roughly grabbing her hips to lift her off him when she went to kiss his neck. “I can’t give you what you want.” He could have died admitting that. Jane smirked down at him, an odd reaction. 

Watching her chest heave, that black bra and pale skin, smooth navel, and lips parted almost made Robotman wish he was dead. What was living if he couldn’t feel her as he fucked her into oblivion? Sure, he may not be able to orgasm, but even having a metal dick would be good enough to have her crazy ass bouncing against him. Hearing her scream and growl, trying to scratch deep into his metal frame, ankles behind his head…. fuck the universe, shit was not fair. She pulled backwards hard, shifting positions and surprising him to fall near on top of her, catching himself to support himself on hand and knees, hands next to her head. 

Jane smiled up at him again and tugged at one of his arms, grabbing a hand and placing two robotic fingers into her mouth. He couldn’t feel it, and it must have tasted like pure rust for her, but watching her tongue move and hearing her moan, Cliff could die from that alone. She bit her lips, eyes dark with lust, as she placed said hand lower on her navel, tugging at her pants. “You can make me cum, and that’s all I could want.” Fuck everything, being just a brain in a metal shell didn’t mean shit hearing that, and without further argument, he roughly pulled her pants down, breaking the zipper and busting a seam or two. A purple laced thong lasted two seconds underneath his rough fingers, grabbing and twisting to shred it away from what he really wanted. 

If Jane wasn’t already crazy, she would have been after feeling two rough metallic fingers, thrusting into her. Painful and clumsy as it was, she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head feeling the fullness. Her thighs trembled, hooking her ankles behind his lower back as he sat up, she loved every second he finger fucked her. Cliff was so lost in the moment mentally; he couldn’t even stop to ask if she was feeling good from what he was doing. She clawed and scrapped with her nails, tossing her head the side and grasping at anything she could with one hand to ride through to orgasm. Red eyes scanned her body from head to toe, one hand landing on the juncture of neck and shoulder. After a sharp gasp, he decided to squeeze as lightly as he could, loving seeing her pale throat in his gigantic hand and knowing he was the reason she was so close to orgasm. 

Thankfully all the others stayed quiet, otherwise Jane doubted she could have come as hard as she did, choking to breathe and knowing tomorrow her pussy would be aching after having such hard and big fingers forcefully fucking her into a puddle. Cliff could feel a phantom of touch when she came, pussy clamping down as she screamed. He pulled his hand out, leaning down and pressing what he could count as a kiss to her neck. She blinked, dazed and confused, looking as fucked out as anyone could. She sleepily smiled, and what heart he did have in his chest melted. “Hi”, she whispered, leaning up to loop an arm around his neck. “Hi,” he rumbled, lifting her up onto the couch. 

She hummed, which was nice given that the Robotman realized it had just been Jane this entire time, and flopped back, hand over her face to hide her eyes and what he assumed was a blush and smile. “Didn’t know you liked this movie that much.” She laughed, glancing down at the metal man on his knees in front of her, flickering tv still going. “Not the worst thing I’ve had to deal with.” If he could smile, she would swear he did as his rough hands grabbed her hips and yanked her forward. “Well don’t mind me. Just gonna finger fuck ya, enjoy the show.” Jane heard almost all the underground laugh in approval, and groaned, but shifted her legs up for him. Guess this answered the questions about his fingers after all.


End file.
